


Doubt the Stars are Fire

by LilithReisender



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Aziraphale being a slightly competent angel, Ballroom Dancing, Crowley being a slightly competent demon, Crusades, Fluff, Historical, Historical Accuracy, Historical Figures, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Pining, Set in Venice in the middle ages, Slow Burn, implied PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22154338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilithReisender/pseuds/LilithReisender
Summary: Crowley finds himself stuck in prison in Venice after a the beginning of a job gone wrong. He had expected to go through the trial process, be convicted, and perform some sort of miraculous escape that would leave the locals telling stories for the next few decades. What he hadnotexpected however, was Aziraphale to get him out of the dungeon with a rather odd request: join him at the palace of Duke Enrico Dandolo of the Republic of Venice. Well, what sort of demon would he be to refuse a temptation like that?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Venice, 1202**

The door opened slowly, sending a thin ray of light into the dark cells.

"Mr. Crowley?" A voice called out. Crowley smirked.

"Yes, gentlemen?" The guard unlocked the door and stepped into Crowley's cell.

"It seems you've got friends in high places; we've been ordered by a member of the council to release you." Crowley held up his wrists, which were bound together in iron manacles and chains that kept him from moving. He could have miracled himself out of this situation, but .in all honesty he just wanted to see how far this would go. The guard glared at him, but unlocked the manacles on his wrists, the heavy iron fell to the ground, the crash of the chains on stone echoed through the dungeon.

"Let's go." The guard pushed Crowley upwards and up the stairs. Crowley rolled his eyes and walked as slow as physically possible. This was interesting, normally he was left to the "mercy" of the courts, where he would irritate the jury and almost always get a guilty verdict. It was all great fun during a dull year. It was rare for someone to get him out, let alone it by the order from a council member. He couldn't wait to see who it was. Maybe he would do them a favor.

Oh, he _definitely_ owed someone a favor.

"Aziraphale?" The angel, it seemed, was waiting for him, wringing his hands anxiously. It had been almost a century since the last time they had met, and Aziraphale was _certainly_ keeping up with modern fashion for once in his life. Crowley looked him up and down, admiring the way the white tunic draped over the angel's body.

Aziraphale glanced over him, his gaze falling on the guard behind him. "Thank you, sir. He won't inconvenience you again." The guard shoved Crowley towards Aziraphale and then turned around.

"All right, no need to get handsy," Crowley muttered, straightening out his shirt. "Hello Aziraphale," Crowley smiled. Aziraphale shot him with a look that displayed extreme anger and disappointment. _Shit._ He was in trouble.

"Okay, I understand you're mad, but-"

"Mad" doesn't begin to cover it, _Crowley_." Aziraphale snapped, lowering his voice so that they wouldn't be overheard by any of the servants running past them. "Had you, say, broken a plate or perhaps a window, that would make me mad. You broke into the sovereign's quarters, got caught, got _arrested_ , and almost got convicted."

" _Almost._ The almost is important."

"The only reason you didn't go to trial was because I used _my_ position in court to get you out." So it had been _Aziraphale_ who had made that happen for him. Interesting. "What did you so desperately need that could have possibly warranted this behavior?" Aziraphale asked, and Crowley had the suspicion that this was the beginning of one of the angel's rants.

"Look, I appreciate the..." He would _not_ say the word _rescue_.

"...assistance. Always nice to see you, but I've got to get going back to-"

"You most certainly will not!" Aziraphale said, sounding almost panicked.

"Aziraphale," Crowley asked cautiously, "what did you do?" The angel began fidgeting with his hands again.

"In order to free you from what was sure to be either imprisonment or discorporation, I may have had to tell the duke that you are a... companion, of mine."

"Companion?" This was going to be fun. " _Angel_ , what type of companion, exactly, did you make me out to be?" Crowley wrapped one arm around Aziraphale's waist, running one finger up his side.

"Nothing like _that,_ " Aziraphale protested, pulling himself out of Crowley's grasp. Okay then, too much there, time to try a different route. "I merely told the duke that you were with me, and that it would make me very upset if you were executed."

 _Upset?_ "Wait, pause for a moment- how do you know the duke? And how can you just get up and talk to him?"

"I am currently serving as the ambassador for the Byzantine Empire in Venice," Aziraphale said pointedly. This certainly put another twist on things. Aziraphale was rarely assigned to be a political ambassador. Usually he simply performed his miracle or blessing and then went back to his life, he hardly ever stuck around for very long. Something important must be about to happen, something that Crowley didn't know about yet.

"Crowley," the angel looked at him sideways, "I do believe that after this you owe me a favor."

"Sure." He could take the angel out for dinner, that was the usual agreement. There were some lovely places in Venice where he could take them, they could make an evening out of it.

"In order to agree to your release, given the nature of your crime, the duke said that you could be released only under the condition that you return with me; that way he can keep an eye on you and ensure that you don't do anything totally idiotic for the time being."

"Well that's a ludicrous idea if I've ever heard one!"

"I don't understand the logic myself, but those were the conditions. I know you've heard the rumors about the duke's sanity, so it's best not to argue and to just go along with it. Now, are you prepared to join me?"

Crowley didn't have to think twice about it. Not only did he get to be close to Aziraphale for what Crowley supposed was going to be a long time, but it also helped him get into the Council, which was what this whole situation was about in the first place. Interactions between the Republic of Venice and the Byzantine Empire had been... tense, over the past few decades. It wasn't Crowley's fault, blame the humans for getting all high and mighty and pushing each other to the limit. But he could most definitely push things along a bit, tighten the chain until it snapped. Crowley grinned,

"Lead the way Aziraphale."


	2. Chapter 2

They took a carriage to the Palazzo Ducale where Crowley had broken in a few days prior. Crowley would grant the Venetians this: they built amazing palaces. Crowley had seen quite a few in his day, and this one certainly went above and beyond the requirements. It was extremely tall, which was normal for a palace, but this one exceeded normal definitions of height. The outside wall was lined with two stories of marble arches, each one tall enough for a horse and carriage to walk underneath with plenty of room left. Towers with tall blue domes peaked up past the outer wall, a crucifix on the top of each spire. The guards let them through the first wall and into the main entrance. They stopped in front of a marble staircase, where a small crowd seemed to be waiting for them. There was a wall of guards standing while facing each other in two perfectly straight lines, and a gathering crowd of servants coming to see what all the fuss was about. A footman opened the carriage door and Aziraphale stepped out first, beckoning Crowley after him with a wave of his hand.

Crowley followed Aziraphale, his heels clicking on the stone ground beneath them. Aziraphale was waiting just outside of the carriage, standing at attention. Crowley jabbed him in the side with his elbow.

"What're you doing?" He hissed under his breath, copying the angel's position.

"Be quiet and let me do the talking on this one." Aziraphale whispered, a slight edge to his voice. _Alright then._ Crowley thought, giving the angel a side eye. His attention was caught by a man in a long gold and red cape making his way down the steps with the help of a long staff, an entourage of who Crowley assumed was the man's advisors following behind him.

He was old, the neatly trimmed white beard on his chin made that clear as day, and he had to use a staff to get down the steps properly. As he got closer, Crowley could see the wrinkles on his face. Underneath the cape he wore a dark red tunic that went down to his calves, and an elaborate leather belt cinched around his waist. To complete the whole ensemble, he wore a curved red cap lined with gold that marked him as the _doge_ or Duke of Venice, Enrico Dandolo. Aziraphale called out to him and Dandolo smiled, it was a nice smile that changed his whole demeanor. Aziraphale bowed his head in acknowledgement and Dandolo laughed, pulling Aziraphale in for a hug. Crowley's eyes widened. That was... unexpected, to say the least. Dandolo patted Aziraphale on the back before pulling away. He then turned to look in Crowley's general direction, performing some type of inspection before turning back to Aziraphale, a hand on his arm.

"So this is the man who broke into my quarters some days ago?"

"Yes, unfortunately. I thank you so much for agreeing to free him."

"Well, after the way you spoke about him, I was certain that I had to meet him to see only if he lived up to your praise." There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Aziraphale's face turned a rather lovely shade of pink. _Oh?_ What exactly had Aziraphale said on his behalf?

"Come now Signor Crowley," Dandolo said, addressing Crowley for the first time, "one of my guards will show you to your rooms." He laughed, "Let us hope that if we give you these chambers you won't have to break into any others." He turned and gave Aziraphale a look that Crowley couldn't discern and turned and walked back up the steps.

Well, that was interesting.

They were led to the third story by one of the guards who had been standing at the steps waiting for them. Aziraphale already knew where his rooms were, but what surprised both of them was that Crowley's room was right next to Aziraphale's. Crowley did his best to suppress a grin.

" _Doge Dandolo_ wishes me to inform you that there will be dinner served in two hours, and that both of you are invited to join him for the meal." Aziraphale nodded, and the guard turned and went back down the hall. Crowley and Aziraphale stood alone in the grey stone hallway, neither of them speaking for a moment before Crowley cleared his throat and muttered something about going to go get ready and that he would see Aziraphale in a little bit.

His rooms were, frankly, huge. The first thing Crowley noticed was the bed, it was large and obviously well crafted, with white sheets and a white canopy overtop. There was a vanity across from the bed, with a round mirror in which Crowley could see almost all of his body at once. Next to the vanity was a matching wardrobe with gilded metal handles and hinges. While Crowley had no use for that, it looked nice nonetheless. Light filtered into the room from a large window that faced the ocean, bathing the room in a soft warmth.

Crowley laid down on the bed, relishing the feeling of comfort and lushness after days of being in shackles. Of course he had known that he could leave whenever he wanted to, but it was too fun messing with everyone while he was there. The guards had quickly come to loathe him, and he had been quite friendly with some of the other men in the cells next to him. Frankly he had been simply been curious as to how far this would go. He hadn't been put to trial before (at least not in the past century or so) and it would be amusing to go through the process of bribing people to either prove him innocent or deem him to be guilty. This was certainly far more fun. Crowley turned his head, leaning into a ray of sunlight and letting the warmth spread over him. A swath of navy blue caught his eye and Crowley sat up. There was a small table next to the bed that Crowley hadn't noticed. Sitting on top of it was a navy blue bible with a gold embroidered cross on the cover. Crowley eyed the bible warily, it wasn't that he had a problem with the book itself, he had been there for a fair amount of it. What he did have a problem with was the fact that some people would go around blessing the books and carrying them around as demon repellent. They burned a little bit when Crowley touched them, but it wasn't anywhere near as bad as being in a church. However, when he was in a city filled with them it was like wearing extremely itchy wool on every part of his body and not being able to take it off. Crowley gingerly reached out and touched the book with one finger, hoping it wouldn't burn. Luckily enough for him it felt just like any other book. Crowley picked up the book and slid it into a drawer. Those knights templar had certainly led the religious fervor to a ridiculous level. It had lessened after the end of the last crusades, but lately Crowley had seen a resurgence of religious fury, and he doubted it would be long before there was another holy conquering ordered by the pope. Crowley pushed the thoughts out of his mind, it wasn't worth worrying about it for now and there was nothing he could do about it anyways. Better to worry about his mission and how he was going to convince the doge, and by extension the council, to engage in illicit trade deals behind the back of the Byzantine empire with Aziraphale so close to him.

Crowley hadn't noticed that he had fallen asleep, but he was awoken rather suddenly by the obnoxious chime of bells not too far off. _Shit._ He had to get ready, Aziraphale and him were supposed to leave soon, and right now Crowley couldn't exactly afford to worsen his reputation if he wanted Dandolo to trust him. Crowley snapped his fingers, miracling his old and slightly ratty clothes into a fresh black shirt, tunic, hose, and shoes. One look in the mirror and his hair went from mildly disheveled to perfectly cut and ornate, curling down past his ears and stopping at the nape of his neck.

Once he was satisfied with his appearance, he walked the few meters to Aziraphale's door, knocking twice before a muffled voice invited him in. Crowley opened the door and quickly closed it behind him. When he looked at Aziraphale, his jaw very nearly dropped.

Aziraphale was standing in a literal ray of sunlight that streamed in from the window, lighting up his blond hair with a subtle halo so it looked like he really was the type of angel that these humans were so fond of painting. He wore an elaborate cream tunic that draped all the way down to his ankles in the official Byzantine fashion, the hem was lined with light blue fabric that was obviously carefully embroidered with gold geometric designs. A loose belt hung on his waist, flattering his figure immensely, and when he moved his arms Crowley could see gold cuffs on his wrists.

"Oh good! Crowley, come here and help me tie this would you?" _Was Aziraphale trying to make him discorporate?_ The angel held up a dark blue cape decorated with gold shapes that looked vaguely like someone had taken the general idea of a five-pointed star and then stretched it. Aziraphale was looking at him expectantly, Crowley nodded, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat. He crossed the space between them, gently grabbing the cape and going behind Aziraphale so he could drape it over the angel's magnificently padded shoulders. Aziraphale was perfectly compliant as Crowley spun the angel around to face him so he could use a gemstone brooch to pin the cape together just below Aziraphale's collarbones.

"Thank you my dear," Aziraphale said fondly, "I _can_ do it myself you know, but it is far easier if there is someone else there to help finish it."

"Of course." Crowley muttered under his breath. He lifted his gaze to Aziraphale's eyes. They were _very_ close together, and Crowley noticed that his hands were still on Aziraphale's chest. Aziraphale's bowed lips quirked into a soft smile and _oh,_ it would be so easy right now to just tilt his head down the slightest bit and kiss him. Aziraphale tilted his head just slightly and took a shallow inhale, Crowley's hands rising with the angel's breath.

A bell rang, much louder this time, and Crowley jumped backwards in surprise, nearly tripping over a bag Aziraphale had placed on the floor.

"I- I take it that's our cue to leave?" Crowley said, trying to recover although he could feel his face heating up. He held out his arm for Aziraphale to take, and the angel laughed as he did so.

"I do believe it is. Now behave yourself, serpent. I can't have your demonic wiles ruin dinner, especially when I'm the one who vouched for you in the first place."

"Alright, you have my word. I won't do anything to tempt Enrico Dandolo at this dinner party."

"I'm serious, Crowley."

"So am I. Demon's word, can't break it." Which was why Crowley had said he wouldn't be tempting _Dandolo_ specifically. Temptations in general? Well, those were still on the table. Crowley gave Aziraphale what he hoped was a devilish grin as he held the door open for the angel.

Time to see how this went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading this, you guys are all wonderful.  
> <3


	3. Chapter 3

Aziraphale lead Crowley to the dining hall in silence, the only noise between them was the echo of their footsteps on the stone floors. They were greeted by the scent of fresh bread as they stepped into the large room. There was a long rectangular table situated perfectly in the middle of the room. Each side was lined with about half a dozen people, while Dandolo himself sat at the head of the table. There was a woman in very fine robes seated next to him. She turned to Dandolo and whispered something to him as Aziraphale and Crowley entered the room. Crowley opened his mouth to speak, but Aziraphale interrupted him before he could get a word in.

"He's beginning to lose his sight," the angel whispered, "he can't see anything that is too far away, and even up close he has trouble. Sometimes people have to explain to him what is happening around him." Ah, so that explained the cane then. The duke smiled in their direction and motioned with his hand for Aziraphale and him to sit at the two open seats to his left. Crowley noted the seating placement with interest. Dandolo's wife was on his right side, which was rare for a woman these days, as the right hand side was usually reserved for the duke's most trusted advisor or closest friend. A person seated at the left hand of the duke was also someone who was considered "close" to him, but in more of a familial manner. Aziraphale had been placed sitting directly next to a man who, based on resemblance, Crowley assumed to be Dandolo's brother. Placing the angel at the spot reserved for the third in command.

"Signore Aziraphale, Signore Crowley," Dandolo addressed them as they sat down, "I am very grateful that you could join us this evening."

"Thank you for having us," Aziraphale supplied automatically, smiling at the duke. Dandolo turned his attention to Crowley,

"Let me introduce to you my wife, Contessa Minotto." Dandolo gestured at the woman on his right, who smiled and bowed her head.

"A pleasure." Crowley smiled in a way that many a nobleman (and noblewoman) had defined as _captivating._ Might as well make an impression now. Minotto, for her part, looked unimpressed.

Dandolo cleared his throat and put his hands together, signaling the people at the table to follow suit. Ah, Crowley had forgotten about this bit. He quirked an eyebrow at Aziraphale, who merely closed his eyes and bowed his head respectfully.

"Bless, o Lord," Dandolo began, "us and these gifts Your kindness grants us." Crowley glared at his plate, _don't you dare,_ Crowley thought Upwards. It would be really quite annoying if he had to avoid eating anything during his stay here for fear that it might be blessed.

"For Christ our Lord." Dandolo finished praying, and nodded, giving everyone permission to eat. Crowley took a sip of wine, deciding that it was better not to risk the food. There were a few minutes of silence as people began eating the meal that had been brought out for them. Fresh cod, steamed rice, and various vegetables- all of which had been expertly cooked and prepared. It was Dandolo who broke the silence.

"Crowley, after everything Aziraphale has said about you I have to assume that you two have been friends for some time. How long have you two been acquainted?"

"Practically forever," Crowley said with a smirk. "I can hardly remember a time when I _didn't_ know him."

"We... grew up together, in a sense," Aziraphale said. "We were... I suppose you might say we were neighbors, though both of us were raised far away from here." Crowley stared at Aziraphale, jaw dropping a bit in surprise. The angel wasn't _technically_ lying, but it was certainly an interesting story, and Crowley found himself wondering whether or not Aziraphale had thought this out beforehand or if he was making it up on the spot. "Our families hated each other terribly, and there was lots of fighting in the early days if I recall," Aziraphale was saying, "but by the time Crowley and I met that bit had more or less been settled. Despite that, the anger and resentment lingered." Aziraphale had _definitely_ thought about this in advance. No matter, Crowley was more than happy to play along.

"That is certainly interesting," Contessa Minotto said, leaning forward to listen to Aziraphale. "How did you two become friends when there was such a rivalry between your two families?"

"That's actually where I come in," Crowley interrupted. "The first time I saw Aziraphale he was sitting on the wall between our properties. I remember seeing him with a blade in his hand, and when the sun caught it at the right angle, it looked like the blade was aflame. From my side of the wall I could see a great apple tree that was rumored to produce the best fruit in the land. So, I made it my mission to steal one." Aziraphale was watching him with interest now, curious as to what Crowley was going to say next.

"It took a few days of planning, but I did eventually make it past Aziraphale's patrol and make it into the most beautiful garden I had ever seen. What I hadn't been able to see from my side of the wall, however, was that the garden was also the home to two of Aziraphale's prize horses. So, what I ended up doing was stealing an apple, yes, but I also opened the gate that kept the horses trapped in the garden and let them run loose. I immediately ran back and climbed over the wall, taunting Aziraphale's siblings before hopping back to my side."

Crowley looked over at Aziraphale, a thought suddenly springing to his mind. "I never asked, did you get punished for that?"

Aziraphale paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully before answering. "I did get reprimanded, yes, but everyone else was too busy worrying about what to do next to perform any sort of proper punishment." Crowley nodded, suddenly relieved.

"Anyways, my family was rather happy with that, but even while they were congratulating me on my success I couldn't stop thinking about the boy on the gate. So I snuck out that afternoon and went back to the wall where Aziraphale was sitting. I climbed back up and did something that neither of our families had ever imagined: I talked to him."

"Oh?" Minotto asked, "What did you discuss?"

"Religion." Aziraphale interjected, saving Crowley from having to stumble his way around that _particular_ conversation.

_"Be funny eh? If I did the good thing and you did the bad?"_

Crowley had begun to feel it then, the fain fluttering in his chest whenever Aziraphale was near. He hadn't figured it out immediately, but when he _did_ eventually put it all together, that what he was experiencing was what the humans called... nope. Still couldn't say it.

"But while I was up there," Crowley continued speaking, "I noticed that the blade that Aziraphale had been carrying with him was missing. I asked him where it went, it was a very fine blade after all, and he told me that he had given it away to someone who he thought needed it more. I was completely surprised, I had never even imagined that anyone might do that with so valuable a possession, but there he was, fretting about it," Crowley laughed, and Aziraphale jumped in to continue the story.

"While we were talking, a storm unexpectedly began to blow through, the first storm ev- of the season I mean. And I..." Aziraphale looked at Crowley with wide eyes and a fond smile, "I gave him my jacket to protect him from the rain." Crowley had been shocked when it happened. He hadn't ever imagined that an angel might shield a demon with his wing. Crowley recalled how the rain had poured down upon them. Crowley did stay mostly dry, but Aziraphale had gotten soaked, the rain dripping from his hair and down his neck. Crowley stared at the angel now, sitting next to him with that kind expression on his face, and maybe it was the wine, Crowley couldn't say for certain what made him do it, but he reached over and, just for a moment, covered Aziraphale's hand with his own. To Crowley's surprise, Aziraphale didn't pull back his hand, he just stared at Crowley as if the demon had done something that Aziraphale didn't want to admit he approved of. A passing servant caught the corner of Crowley's eye and pulled him out of whatever state he had been in. He moved his hand from Aziraphale's with an awkward laugh.

"Well," Dandolo said, breaking the silence that had fallen at the table, "that is certainly an interesting story. Please, do tell us more."

"What do you wish to know?" Aziraphale answered, a blush rising on his cheeks.

"What happened after that?" Minotto answered before Dandolo could speak. "Did you simply _become_ friends? What did your families think?"

"We stayed there until the storm passed," Crowley answered, covering for Aziraphale, who was beginning to look rather flustered at all the attention they were getting. "I had to leave when the rain stopped, my family was expecting me. We ran into each other a few times after that, and mind you, we did _try_ to keep up the family rivalry, but it never seemed to work properly. The further we got from our families and the closer we grew together, the more pointless the entire ordeal seemed- to me anyways." Crowley nudged Aziraphale with his elbow. "This one still pretends to go at it every once in a while." Aziraphale shot him what Crowley assumed was supposed to be a nasty look, but it's effect was hindered by the angel's attempts to hide a smile. "After a long while we came to the conclusion that it would be easier for both of us to just allow ourselves friendship rather than to continue hiding behind the false pretense of familial hatred."

"As for our families," Crowley continued, "well, as far as I know mine has no idea that we are friends, and I hope to keep it that way."

"Mine also still seem to be unaware," Aziraphale agreed. "Although they do continually send me updates about the latest "crime" that Crowley's family has committed," Aziraphale chuckled, taking a sip of wine.

"Well, that is a tale worthy of one of those books of which you are so fond," Dandolo said, looking between Crowley and Aziraphale.

"It most certainly is," Crowley agreed, giving Aziraphale a look while holding back a comment about how they could read more about it in the bible.

A companionable silence fell upon them after that. Aziraphale ate his food with delight while Crowley took sips of wine, claiming that the prison food had left him feeling rather ill. Dinner seemed to be going well, but there was something odd about Dandolo that Crowley couldn't quite put his finger on- and it wasn't his near-blindness. Crowley had heard rumors that the duke's sanity was leaving him, but the man sitting in front of him seemed as sharp as ever.

A messenger came into the room, bowing curtly as he handed a letter to the duke, who dismissed the man with a wave of his hand. Dandolo opened the letter with a look of annoyance that quickly shifted into an expression of seriousness.

"It is a letter from the Pope," Dandolo said, giving Aziraphale a knowing look. Ah, so it appeared that they had discussed this before. The Byzantine empire was not exactly fond of Pope Innocent, Crowley knew, so he assumed that this particular topic between Aziraphale and Dandolo was a tense one.

"He speaks of how heresy is beginning to spread up north, and soon it shall be up to us as followers of the church to stop it." Dandolo rubbed his temples, "I fear that soon we shall have another crusade upon us."

"You can't know that for certain." Aziraphale said quickly, sounding anxious. Crowley tilted his head at Aziraphale. That was certainly an... interesting reaction to the crusades. Crowley hadn't spent much time in this area while they were happening, he had been too busy working in China at the time, but based on the rumors he had heard, Crowley had certainly thought that heaven would be behind this. Satan knew they were cruel enough. But the way that Aziraphale immediately tried to change the subject, well, that implied a certain amount of animosity- or at least discomfort towards the crusades themselves. Crowley made a mental note to file that information for a later conversation.

Dandolo stared at the letter in his hands for a few more minutes before standing up, using his cane to hoist himself to his feet.

"I must apologize," Dandolo said as he waved his hand for his advisors to stand, "I fear that I must leave to confer with my advisors at once." Aziraphale went to stand up, but Dandolo stopped him. "No," he insisted, "please stay and enjoy time with your friend. There will be plenty of time for us to converse later." Everyone at the table stood up and left with Dandolo, following behind him obediently and leaving Crowley and Aziraphale alone at the table.

They stared at each other for a moment, not quite sure what to do or say. It was a different feeling from when they had been talking just moments before. There was a weight that seemed to settle around them, leaving no room for any more lighthearted conversation. Something had shifted, but Crowley couldn't quite tell what.

"Well," Crowley started, trying to ease the tension that had suddenly fallen between them, "this was certainly not how I expected to end the day."

"No," Aziraphale smiled, and the atmosphere shifted back into comfortable territory. "I rather guess it isn't."

They stayed at the table for a little while longer, conversing in hushed tones about things that had happened in the past. They would catch up fully a little bit later, once they weren't at risk of being overheard, so for now Crowley settled for listening to the angel talking about his scrolls back in Byzantium while occasionally adding his own commentary. Surprisingly enough, it was Aziraphale who stood up first, insisting that they had stayed at the table for long enough and that it would be rude for them to be there any longer. Crowley rolled his eyes, but followed the angel anyways. They walked back to their respective rooms, chattering amicably the whole way back. It was nice, Crowley realized, to be able to talk like this in public without having to be so worried about what their respective sides might think. Aziraphale was doing his job- whatever that may be, and Crowley was doing his own, although granted, he hadn't yet gotten a good start on it. Either way, he could easily explain their relative closeness as a necessary sacrifice in order to do his part for corrupting the Venetian Council. Who knows, maybe if he worded it right he could get a commendation from Dagon for exemplary field work while not getting discorporated by an angel.

They stopped outside of their respective chambers, neither of them making the first move to leave. Crowley was half tempted to invite Aziraphale in so they could continue their conversation, but he had a feeling that it would not be a smart decision to make to be seen inviting the Byzantine ambassador into his rooms after said ambassador had apparently been extremely flattering of Crowley's character in his defense. It wasn't a good idea to start spreading rumors so early.

"Aziraphale," Crowley began, "we both know I can't say thank you for today." Aziraphale nodded solemnly. Crowley heard footsteps coming towards them from down the hall. _Well,_ he thought, _maybe a little rumor wouldn't be too bad._ He leaned forward and lightly kissed Aziraphale on both cheeks. A traditional goodbye, he could justify if the angel ever asked. Aziraphale turned pink, and Crowley hid a smirk as the servant girl came running by them, looking extremely embarrassed.

"See you tomorrow, angel." Crowley said, taking a step backwards.

"Oh! Um, yes, see you tomorrow." Aziraphale responded, looking extremely flustered.

Crowley paused at his door, sneaking a peek at Aziraphale, and saw that the angel was still staring at him. Crowley winked, causing Aziraphale to somehow turn even more pink, and then Crowley went into his chambers, closing the door behind him. He immediately collapsed onto the ridiculous bed arms spread wide as he stared up at the canopy. This day had certainly been an... eventful, day, but by no means had it been a bad one. In fact, Crowley could use his new position as a friend of Aziraphale's to gain some support inside the duke's court. This could all work in Crowley's favor, if he played his cards right. There was of course, the added bonus that he was going to be able to spend time with Aziraphale and not have to worry as much about being caught by Hell or smote by Heaven. Crowley smiled to himself as he thought about some of the comments Dandolo had made about how Aziraphale had defended him. One thing was for certain, Crowley was not leaving until he learned what exactly Aziraphale had said. Then there was the story they had made up at the table. Crowley wondered how Aziraphale had come up with that one, because the more he thought about it the more he became convinced that the angel _had_ to have thought about this in advance, which begged the question: how long had Aziraphale been prepared for something like this to happen?

Oh yes, Crowley could see this particular job lasting for a _very_ long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) There are no official documents that state Contessa Minotto's first name. (As in, when you Google it the first result for her name is Contessa, which literally means "Countess.") However, it is officially known that once Dandolo was elected as duke, Contessa Minotto took over handling Dandolo's business and financial work along with Dandolo's brother. This was pretty rare for a woman in this time, so I will DEFINITELY be playing on that in later chapters. *wink*  
> 2) Thank you so much to everyone who is reading this. You guys are amazing and I love hearing from you (comments are always appreciated).  
> <3


	4. Chapter 4

It was three days before Crowley was able to actually get to begin his assignment. It wasn't his fault, not really. There were just so many things to do that he sort of got... sidetracked. It didn't help in the least that a certain angel was determined to show him every part of the palace. It was just as lush and decadent on the inside as it was on the outside, every room filled with various goods and luxuries- although Aziraphale was partial to the library. It was endearing, the way in which Aziraphale's face lit up whenever he happened upon some previously unknown volume, and Crowley was more than happy enough to sit back and watch as the angel ran his fingers reverently over each scroll and tome. In all reality, Crowley knew that he should have started working his way into the duke's favor the moment he had arrived in the palace, but Crowley was hesitant to do anything that might speed up his work and make him have to leave any sooner. He hadn't gotten the chance to spend this much time with Aziraphale since the Beginning, when both of them had realized that for the time being, they were alone and each other's company was better than no company at all.

Crowley sat on the chair next to Aziraphale's in the drawing room. Aziraphale had spent the better part of the last hour discussing _Roman de Fergus_ while Crowley listened, enjoying the way the angel's face flushed and the way his hands moved as he got more and more into his rant about the character development and romance of the main character.

"Really Crowley, the stories that people make up about these knights," Aziraphale was saying, "I knew most of the knights at Arthur's court, and while this is certainly a good _story_ , Fergus's life was nothing like this."

There was a knock from the entryway and Crowley jumped, surprised at the sudden interruption. Dandolo was standing just in the hallway with Contessa Minotto next to him.

"May we join you?" He asked courteously, motioning to the sofa across from where Crowley and Aziraphale were sitting.

"Of course, Duke." Aziraphale smiled and sat back so he could face Dandolo and Minotto as they made their way to the sofa. Crowley noticed how Minotto held Dandolo's arm and guided him across the room as he prodded the space in front of him with his cane. It was only when Dandolo was comfortably seated that she let go and sat down next to him, resting her head on one hand as she leaned against the arm of the sofa.

"I do hope we aren't interrupting anything direly." Dandolo said, looking between Aziraphale and Crowley.

"I was merely discussing a book I read, a continuation of the stories of King Arthur." Dandolo nodded politely, but Minotto's eyes widened and she leaned forward, her full attention on Aziraphale.

"Would you happen to be referring to the _Roman de Fergus_?" She asked, a smile growing on her face. Crowley knew that look quite well, it was the look of a person who was _mad_ about a story, it was a look that Aziraphale wore quite often. Crowley looked between the angel and the countess, amused. It seemed that the angel had found someone just as interested in the tale as himself.

"Indeed I am, my lady. Do you happen to have read it before?"

"I am well versed in all the tales of King Arthur," Minotto replied, "and yourself?"

"Equally well versed, I assure you." Aziraphale was smiling now, clearly pleased.

"Would you care to join me while I take my lunch?" Minotto offered to Aziraphale. The angel looked over at Crowley for just a second before answering.

"I would, thank you very much, my lady." Aziraphale stood and offered his hand to Minotto, who stood with remarkable grace for a woman of her age.

"Please excuse us," Aziraphale said, bowing to Dandolo and giving Crowley a look that could only be interpreted as _"don't you dare do anything."_ Dandolo nodded and Aziraphale and Minotto walked out of the room, already chattering about their books. That left Crowley and Dandolo alone in the Drawing room, and unfortunately for Aziraphale, the angel wasn't the only one with a job to do.

"Oh Angela," the duke sighed, "I do not know where I would be without that woman. She took over all of my personal affairs when I was elected, which has saved me on more than one occasion. She can be quite the diplomat."

"And well read it seems as well." Crowley added, trying to carry the conversation along.

"Indeed. I am aware that it is considered odd for a woman of her rank to be reading in the way that she does, but she is a force unto herself, and I could not stop her even if I wanted to."

"I am of the opinion that knowledge benefits all," Crowley said, suddenly reminded of Eve. Such a curious girl she had been. How was she to have known that eating that apple would get her and Adam banished?

"But what do you say about information that has been forbidden?" Dandolo asked inquisitively.

"I would say that the fact that it is forbidden makes it all the more necessary. After all, why would someone forbid it if it wasn't important?"

"Because it threatens the stability of the culture." Dandolo replied, looking at Crowley with interest.

"If a culture can be destabilized by knowledge then how strong could it have been in the first place."

To Crowley's surprise, Dandolo laughed. "You very much are a friend of Aziraphale's. He has said something similar to me before." _What?_

"Oh, has he now?"

"Indeed, I believe it was in a discussion about the book of Genesis after mass some weeks ago. We were discussing Eve's folly, and to my surprise, Aziraphale defended her." Of course he did. Crowley felt an overwhelming wave of fondness for the angel. Still the same angel who Crowley had met on the gate of Eden

"How did you and Aziraphale come to be acquainted?" Crowley asked, tilting his head to the side. It would be easier for him to get the duke to trust him if he acted interested in his life. And besides, he was genuinely curious.

"It was one one of my voyages to Constantinople. I am the designated ambassador of Venice to that region, as I am sure you know." Crowley hadn't known that, but he nodded. "I was negotiating a trade deal with the emperor, and to my surprise Aziraphale helped convince the emperor to give us free trade with the empire, with certain limitations of course." Ah, so this is where Crowley was supposed to come in.

"Limitations such as?"

"Certain countries that we can't trade with because they compete with the Byzantines."

"Well why not? I assume that these other countries have lower prices, and that trading with Venice could benefit both of you."

"Yes, but relations between Byzantium and Venice have been strained as of late, and I do not wish to provoke them. Aziraphale helped me settle everything the last time things got too intense, but I fear that if I went behind their back I would lose his support and therefore lose any support I have in Constantinople as well."

"It seems that Aziraphale has helped you a lot," Crowley remarked, changing the subject. It would be best to not push Dandolo too far this early into their acquaintanceship, he needed the duke to trust him, not be suspicious of him.

"Yes, his presence truly is a gift. He defended you very well, you know. I would have left you to face the council, but he convinced me that you were not some random criminal to be locked up and executed."

"Do tell me what it is he said, I will admit that I'm curious." Where was this going to go?

"Now, I do not remember his testimony word-for-word. This old mind of mine cannot keep track of everything. But I do recall saying that he had known you for quite some time and that you were his oldest friend. He also spoke of your bravery and intelligence. You know, it is quite interesting, I've noticed that Aziraphale never speaks of his homeland unless he is speaking to you."

"He is my dearest friend," Crowley admitted, "and there are things that we have seen together that we would not wish to impart upon other people."

"I do understand that, war can be devastating to everyone involved." Crowley blinked. That hadn't exactly been what he was referring to, but it certainly applied. "Oh, don't look so surprised." Dandolo said, "I have seen many a war in my day. In fact, I was in the last Crusade with the Knights Templar. I know full well how something like that can bond you to a person." Crowley nodded. Dandolo certainly wasn't wrong. Once you had seen war and death firsthand with another person, those memories would always tie you together.

A sort of heavy silence fell between them, both of them becoming lost in their own thoughts. Dandolo had a faraway look on his face, and Crowley knew that he was remembering something that had happened a long time ago. Someone cleared their throat and the faraway look disappeared, bringing Dandolo back to the present.

" _Doge Dandolo,_ " the servant said, "Contessa Minotto wishes to know if you would be willing to invite some of her cousins to the party."

"Of course, tell her that she may invite anyone she wishes." The servant bowed and then left.

"A party?" Crowley asked, grateful for the new topic.

"Yes, it is my dear Angela's birthday, and she requested a masquerade this year."

"When is this masquerade to be?" Crowley asked, growing more and more curious. A party meant lots of wealthy people all stuck in one place, all of them willing to commit various sins if just given a nudge in the right direction. These parties among nobles were always filled with gossip, raging energy, and seductive dances that could only be played off with the particular atmosphere that came with being surrounded by finery at all times.

"In a few weeks time, Angela requested that it be on the full moon so that we might enjoy the courtyard at night."

A few weeks. Crowley could work with that. In fact, it would probably be fun, especially as things around the palace would grow more tense the closer they got to the date of the party. And if Aziraphale was going to be there as well... this was certainly going to be a good time.

"If you'll excuse me now," Dandolo said, standing up with the help of his cane. I believe that I am to have an audience with some of the merchants soon. Thank you for the conversation, it was most interesting." Crowley nodded, although he was certain that the duke didn't see it. The duke made his way out of the room, leaving Crowley alone.

Crowley leaned back on the chair, contemplating everything that had just happened. He had gotten a decent start on Dandolo, good enough that he could justify everything to Dagon if need be. Besides, the man was so religious that Crowley was certain that it would take him a long while to tempt him to do something unlawful. There was also the matter that he seemed to be very dependent on his wife for his personal affairs, so maybe it would be best to get close to _Contessa Minotto_ and get her support before working on Dandolo even more. Then there was the matter of the masquerade. Crowley had been to many such events before, and they were always interesting. The fact that nobody could tell who was who added another layer of excitement and mystery to the air, and Crowley certainly planned to use that to his advantage. With the anonymity came a certain type of freedom that Crowley knew how to wield like a weapon. He knew that Aziraphale would be there, especially if Minotto was organizing the guest list, and that knowledge only made him more excited. A part of him wondered what the angel would dress up as, but Crowley pushed the thought out of his head before he could ponder it too much, knowing that if he started down that train of thought he would never get off. Crowley tapped his finger against his lips, summoning a piece of parchment along with a quill and ink. It was time to make a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) _Roman de Fergus_ is a story that was published at an unknown date in the early 13th century. It is the story of a young farmer who was charged with helping King Arthur hunt a white stag. While he was doing that, he happened upon a lady's house, and he and the noblewoman who lived there fell in love. After he completed his quest, he returned to King Arthur, only to find out that the noblewoman had gone missing. He goes on this huge quest to find her, defeats a knight who he had been challenged to fight, and eventually found her. They were married and Fergus was brought in as one of King Arthur's knights.
> 
> 2) I found a vague reference online that said Minotto's first name might have been Angela, so that's what I'm going to be sticking with for the rest of the story. Seriously, Contessa Angela Minotto was awesome and I am having too much fun writing her. Unfortunately, there are very few records about her (as in, there isn't even a painting of what she looked like) other than that she was in charge of Dandolo's personal and commercial affairs, so most of what I say about her is my own inference about what it must have been for her in this time period.
> 
> 3) Thank you to all my lovely readers. You guys are amazing and I appreciate every single one of you. <3


	5. Chapter 5

Crowley awoke with a start as the ringing of the church bells pierced the air. For a brief, terrifying moment, Crowley didn't remember where he was. He would never stay somewhere so close to a church where the bells rang so loudly he could feel it reverberating in his throat unless he absolutely had to- and then it all slid back into place. The palace. Dandolo. Aziraphale. Crowley closed his eyes, taking a second to breathe and will his heart back to a semi-normal rhythm.

It was Sunday.

_Fuck._

One of the disadvantages of this bloody place was that every singe person in the sodding republic belonged to one church or another, and Dandolo was as Catholic as they came.

Bless it all! Things had been going so well too. Crowley had been slowly gaining Dandolo's trust, and _of course_ Crowley was going to be expected to attend church to prove that he was actually _serious_ about repenting for his crime. Brilliant. This was all bloody fantastic. Crowley couldn't wait to step foot into the chapel and be immediately smote by the first angel that they asked to bless the service, or by the Almighty Herself for daring to step foot in Her place of worship. Granted, Crowley had never actually _been_ to a church because of the whole fear-of-instant-discorporation thing along with a healthy sense of self-preservation, and quite frankly he wasn't eager to find out what would happen once he crossed that line.

The bells rang again, and then there was a knock on the door. Shit. Crowley snapped his fingers, using a quick miracle to change out of his simple sleeping tunic and into a dark red tunic with black hose, a leather belt that Crowley thought did a marvelous job at showing off his waist, and black high-heeled shoes. If he was going to be forced to attend a church he might as well tempt a few people into sinful thoughts. Crowley opened the door and found himself face to face with a flushed angel.

"Fancy seeing you this early," Crowley said, leaning against the doorframe and jutting one hip out. "Careful now. Who knows what people will think if they see you loitering by my door at this early hour."

"They will think that I am simply making sure that you are ready for mass," Aziraphale said primly. Crowley rolled his eyes and Aziraphale swatted him on the arm. "This is no joking matter, Crowley!" Aziraphale insisted, leaning in so he could whisper without being overheard. "Do you know if you can even step on consecrated ground without being sent back to Hell?"

"Oh, _angel_ , are you concerned about me?"

"Well I certainly can't have you bursting into flames in front of the entire court."

"Is _that_ what would happen?" Crowley asked, a sense of unease growing in his chest.

"How am I supposed to know? It's not as if this is something that has happened before." A group of servants walked past them, eyeing them suspiciously.

"Crowley," Aziraphale started, then paused.

"Go on angel. If you have something to say, I'm all ears." The bell rang for a third time, signaling that mass would begin soon. The angel stayed silent, wringing his hands as he seemed to try to piece his thoughts together.

"I don't think that I've got much of a choice here Aziraphale. I have to at least make an appearance." The angel remained silent as he stepped out of Crowley's way so he could join Aziraphale in the corridor. Crowley gave Aziraphale a smirk, hoping to hide his growing feeling of uncertainty with his usual bravado.

Aziraphale led Crowley to the courtyard, neither of them attempting a conversation. He had been confused at first when Aziraphale directed him to what Crowley had previously assumed was simply a part of the palace that he had yet to explore. Aziraphale had seen the confusion on his face an whispered that there was a church _attached_ to the palace, which made Crowley determined to be far more careful in his explorations. As they made their way to the church, Crowley could have sworn that he saw the angel growing more radiant with every step closer to holy ground. Then he stepped on a very specific cobblestone and _did_ swear, although for a very different reason. He jerked back, surprised at the sudden heat underneath him. Aziraphale automatically reached out, placing his hand on Crowley's lower back to steady him.

"Are you alright?" Aziraphale whispered, sounding concerned.

"Fine, just..." It wasn't as horrible as he had previously expected, but it still wasn't good. He placed his food back down on the cobblestone. It burned, yes, but not to the degree he had thought it would. Cautiously, he took another few steps. He was fine at first, a bit uncomfortable, but he managed. As he got closer to the church, it seemed as if the burning underneath him was getting hotter, as if he was walking on hot coals instead of cool cobblestones. Unfortunately for him, this wasn't some minor discomfort that he could miracle away. This was consecrated ground, _Her_ ground. At this point Crowley was both grateful and surprised that he hadn't discorporated yet. He managed to make it to the elaborate double doors that led to the inside of the church before things began to go wrong.

Dandolo was waiting for them at the entrance, although he didn't smile until Aziraphale called out and announced to the nearly-blind man that they were there.

"Aziraphale!" Dandolo exclaimed, "I am glad that you could join us this fine morning. Normally you are one of the first members to arrive, I was rather concerned that something had happened to you."

"I was merely showing Crowley the way here," Aziraphale replied. Dandolo turned to face Crowley.

"Good morning to you, sir. I trust that you plan to seek His forgiveness for your sins on this most holy day?" Crowley stifled a laugh,

"er... something along those lines, yes." Forgiveness and demons didn't exactly go together, but there was no reason that Dandolo had to know that.

"Do come join me," Dandolo offered, turning and beginning to walk inside. "Angela is already waiting in the first row." Crowley nodded, biting his tongue to try and hide the pain that was steadily increasing. He made it approximately three yards inside before he stopped in his tracks. There was a priest in front of them, waiting to greet and bless each person who entered the chapel. Perfect, this was all bloody fantastic. All he needed now was for someone to hit him over the head with a blessed bible and he would be set for the most Holy way of being tortured that wasn't outright smiting. Aziraphale seemed to pick up on this too, because he came away from Dandolo and rejoined Crowley.

"Pretend to faint." Aziraphale whispered urgently.

"What?"

"Quickly, before the priest blesses you and the whole court figures out what you are." Crowley glanced at the priest, then to Aziraphale, and decided that it wasn't worth trying to withstand a blessing and possibly ruining both of their operations. If they discovered that Crowley was a demon, they would leap to conclusions and assume that because Crowley and Aziraphale were friends, then Aziraphale must be a demon as well.

Crowley gasped loudly, reaching out suddenly to grab a handful of Aziraphale's tunic. He swayed on his feet, before promptly collapsing onto the ground. To his surprise, Aziraphale caught him, wrapping his arms around Crowley's upper back as Crowley let his head roll against Aziraphale's chest. The burning was against his legs now, and it took a conscious effort not to hiss from the pain.

"What is the matter?" Crowley heard Dandolo ask, "What happened?"

"Crowley is still feeling ill from his stay in the prisons. He has been attempting to mask his discomfort for the past few days, but I fear that he has exerted himself." _Clever angel,_ Crowley thought.

"With your permission sir, I would like to bring Crowley back to his chambers so that he may rest for the time being."

"Of course," Dandolo said. "Do whatever you need."

Crowley had expected Aziraphale to pretend to wake him up so that Crowley could limp his way back. Maybe he could throw his arm over the angel's shoulders for "support." What he _hadn't_ expected was for Aziraphale to wrap one arm underneath his shoulders and another underneath his knees and pick Crowley up off the ground with seemingly no effort. Sometimes Crowley forgot how strong the angel truly was.

Aziraphale didn't have to do what he did next. He could very well have set Crowley down the second the got off of consecrated ground, but he didn't. He carried Crowley back to his chambers, refusing any help offered from random bystanders and only stopping when they were right outside Crowley's door.

"Crowley, I'm going to set you down now." Crowley said something extremely intelligent along the lines of _"hrmn?"_ and balanced himself as Aziraphale gently set his feet down, the angel's arm now wrapped comfortably around Crowley's shoulders as he helped Crowley stand up without falling on his face.

"Are you alright?" Aziraphale asked, stepping back so he could look Crowley up and down, still holding the demon's upper arm tightly. Crowley made to wave him off, but Aziraphale interrupted him. "Don't you pretend that you're perfectly fine. Both of us know that it's a miracle, figuratively, that you are still alive now and not back in Hell, or worse."

"I'll be alright." Crowley said, reaching over to grasp the hand on his shoulder like it was a lifeline. "Should just take a while to rest up. That whole Holy Ground thing certainly isn't a joke." He stared into those beautiful blue eyes, not willing to break away.

"I-I should be getting back," Aziraphale said, dropping his hand from Crowley's arm. "They'll be expecting me back soon."

"You should go then." Crowley said, trying to hide the tinge of sadness coupled with exhaustion that was taking up most of his brain.

"Don't look so glum. It's not as if I am leaving forever," Aziraphale laughed, and Crowley felt a bit silly for pouting. "I'll be in the library this afternoon, should you feel well enough to join me."

"I will see you then." Aziraphale smiled and turned away, but Crowley surged forward, grabbing the angel's hand.

"Angel, I can't say thank you for this. If my side found out..."

"I know, Crowley." Crowley didn't know if he was imagining the sadness in Aziraphale's voice.

Crowley didn't quite know what came over him, whether or not he was simply exhausted and in pain or simply tired of being forced to be silent. Slowly, reverently, he brought the angel's hand to his lips, kissing the soft flesh before letting go and standing up straight. He didn't stay long enough to see Aziraphale's face. He quickly slipped into his room, closing the door behind him. Crowley waited until he heard footsteps walking away before releasing a breath he didn't know he had been holding. He leaned his forehead against the door, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his fingers to his lips. It was only when he was certain that the angel was out of earshot that he muttered the words against his fingertips.

"Thank you, Aziraphale, for everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Sorry for the long time between updates. Life has been extremely chaotic lately and I just haven't had much time to write. Don't worry, I'm not leaving XD I'm just going to be updating more sporadically rather than on my usual at-least-once-per-week-maybe schedule.   
> 2) I just wanted to say a quick thank you to my dear friends Kanna-Ophelia, Deamonia, Caffine_and_Spite, and BringDeathUponMe for being the people who made me smile these past two weeks when I was feeling down. You guys are my miracles, and I am grateful every day to have met you.  
> 3) To all my wonderful readers, thank you so much for staying with this fic. I appreciate you all so much for leaving so many kind comments, I get a little spark of happiness every time I hear from you all.  
> <3 <3 <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief little note: This chapter contains vaguely implied PTSD from one of the crusades. It is referenced second-hand and does not go into graphic detail.

The following days were a blissful chaos, and Crowley was enjoying every minute of it. There were three days left before Angela's masquerade, and the entire palace staff was running around as if their lives depended on it. There was so much stress and tension in the air, it _almost_ made Crowley feel guilty for having a bit of fun at their expense. Crowley sat on a padded bench in the corridor, watching as people came and went in a frantic scrabble to finish preparing before guests began to arrive in the afternoon. Crowley watched as a servant came running past him, carrying a pile of neatly folded silks. In that moment, a tile that had previously been smooth had decided that it needed something different from life and had poked a corner up just as the servant came running. The servant tripped and fell over, crushing the neatly folded silks underneath him. The tile decided that it had now experienced all that life had to offer and resumed its normal position. Crowley hid a smirk as the servant picked himself up, groaned at the state of the silks and turned around, presumably going back to fold them. Crowley stood up, bored after a few minutes of relative calm. He turned and went down the corridor where the servant had gone, sending out a mental fishing line for the place with the most people who's day would be easily ruined. His search led him to the kitchens, where large bags of fish were being brought in to be stored in salt until they could be cooked. Crowley raised an eyebrow at the largest bag, which began to reek something _truly_ awful. One of the cooks reached into the bag and pulled out a fish with white scales. She shrieked and threw it down on the counter, where it flopped, well, like a dead fish. She turned to the men and began to yell at the merchants about how the fish was rotten already and that she couldn't possibly be expected to serve this to guests. Crowley smiled to himself and walked away with no small amount of pride as a screaming match began between the cooks and the merchants. These humans, they were always a great source of entertainment; so easy to mess with- and Crowley hardly had to lift a finger.

After several more minutes of wandering about the hallways with no particular destination in mind, Crowley found himself loitering at the entryway of the ballroom as Angela ordered servants about, organizing everything from the table placements to the floral arrangements.

"Place the councilman's daughter next to the merchant's son. If they get along, we could have a strong connection to the Sicilian market." One of Angela's maids scurried past Crowley with two pieces of paper in her hands and placed them gently on a table near a large window. "Ah, Signor Crowley," Angela beckoned him into the room with one hand. "Do come in, I could use some assistance from someone who at least has _some_ appreciation for the intricacies of modern aesthetics." Crowley couldn't help but laugh as he bowed and joined Angela in the middle of the room.

"Signor, what do you think about having a cream fabric over the table, and perhaps some sort of accent, it all looks quite dull, don't you agree?" Crowley looked around the large room, with it's wide space, elaborate paintings with gilded frames, and the wide doors leading out onto the balcony. Despite it's admittable beauty, Crowley had to admit that Angela was right, the space did look a bit empty.

"Perhaps go with a white fabric instead, as the candlelight will make it appear cream anyway. Then you can place something like this," he said, spinning around and grabbing an orange flower from a servant passing by. "On the center of the table with some candles." He held it out to Angela, who ran her fingers over the long petals.

"A daylily. Interesting choice I must say, but you are right, it seems appropriate for a masquerade."

"Marinetta," Angela called, summoning one of her ladies, "please get me multiple arrangements of these." Another servant approached her, this time with a paper with what Crowley guessed was a list of some sort.

"Ah, my son and daughter in law. Place them at the head table next to me so that we may converse over dinner." The servant nodded and scuttled away. Angela directed her attention towards Crowley. "I find myself in need of a rest, would you care to join me?"

"I would be honored." Crowley smiled and took a step back so that she could lead the way.

She took them to the drawing room where Angela collapsed on a sofa against the wall. Crowley sat across from her on a padded chair, resting his hand casually on his hand. Crowley had invented the concept of sitting in a manner that displayed both refinement and a lack of care, and it was quite amusing to see how the humans tried to copy him. Angela closed her eyes and sighed heavily, running her hand over her dark hair.

"Forgive me, these arrangements are always quite tiring. When I was younger and had far more energy, we would plan and attend parties almost every week, but as the years have gone on, I have found myself unable to do the things I used to."

"Where is Doge Dandolo?" Crowley asked, just now realizing something. "I haven't seen him at all today." Nor had he seen Aziraphale, which was even more odd, as with their current living arrangement they could hardly avoid each other if they tried.

"He and Signor Aziraphale taken to Enrico's study for the foreseeable future. It seems there has been an issue concerning trade. Although what exactly I cannot say." Something was obviously bothering her, and Crowley knew how to seize an opportunity and get someone to open up better than anyone. All it took was a slight mental push from him before she began talking.

"I am concerned about him," Angela admitted. "Normally he would discuss his thoughts with me, but as of late he has begun to change. He has grown paranoid, convinced that people are conspiring against him. He keeps to himself, and I have caught him muttering to himself on more than one occasion. I-" she paused, as if just now aware of what she was saying. "I am sorry, I do not know what came over me." She sat up, brushing off her dress as she did so, and Crowley quickly shifted the conversation, not ready to give up his best chance at getting information.

"You mentioned something about your son and daughter in law coming. I didn't know you had children." Angela looked at him curiously and then sank back into the sofa.

"Yes, my son Raniero, I have asked for him to come as well. I have hardly seen him since the wedding."

"And when was that?"

"Some years ago now. He lives in the city with his wife, but he is very busy with his work as the Vice-Doge, so I have hardly had the opportunity to see him for more than a day at a time.

"I had Raniero when I was newly married, so I was quite young you see. It was a marriage of convenience for the both of us. My father predicted that Enrico would grow to be extremely powerful and he thought that I'd best marry him sooner to help guide him, and Enrico needed connections to a family like the Minotto's." She laughed, and for the first time, Crowley noticed the grey streaks in her dark hair, and the way the wrinkles lingered on her face. "So we were married. We were luckier than most. At the very least we were able to grow to love each other, which is more than many others in our situation an say. And when Raniero was born, it was perfect, at least for a while." She paused, as if she were debating whether or not to say more.

"What happened?" Crowley asked, encouraging her. He needed her to trust him, that way he could get to Dandolo.

"The Crusades came, and Enrico left. He was gone for a very long time, so it was just Raniero and I for many years. Then he came back, and I was overjoyed, but he was different. He came back with his eyes having been damaged, and he would see things that weren't there. He would wake up many nights and reach for a weapon, believing that we were under attack." She stayed silent, staring off into space for a few minutes, and it was then that Crowley saw not the lively woman who handled her husbands affairs with such grace, but the woman who had tried to make do as her husband fought in a battle that had long since ended. Those bloody Crusades. Crowley had gotten a commendation for spreading hatred, distrust, and death, every time a new one came along. He was at three so far, and frankly he preferred not to think about them- the medals or the battles.

"I am sorry Signor, I do not mean to burden you with my thoughts." Angela said shaking her head slightly.

"It is no burden to me Contessa," Crowley stood and helped her up. "I thank you for trusting me with such information."

"Yes, well, no matter. I have a masquerade to plan. I trust that you will be in attendance, and Signor Aziraphale? I am certain he would come if you do, he does seem ever so fond of you." She have him a look, as if she were waiting for him to react. He pretended he hadn't noticed.

"I wouldn't miss it, and neither would he." Angela smiled and made her leave from the drawing room to go and finish preparing for the party, and Crowley left soon after to go do the same.

That conversation had gone better than Crowley had planned, he certainly had more information to work with in any case. He was beginning to suspect that Angela, despite her busy life, was lonely; which meant that all that Crowley had to do was figure out how to make that work to his advantage- preferably _without_ Aziraphale noticing. Crowley looked out onw of the windows into the courtyard, where guests were beginning to arrive, and would soon be shown to their rooms before the masquerade began. Crowley walked down the corridor to his rooms so that he could begin preparing himself for what was bound to be an eventful night.

An angel, a demon, and a masquerade. Time to see how this went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) "Lilith!" You cry from the comments section, "you make us wait a month for an update, and Aziraphale isn't even in it?" Yes. Yes I did.  
> In all seriousness, sorry about taking so long to update. Life got really crazy there for a bit, and unfortunately I had to focus on other things. With any luck everything should mellow out now and get back to normal, but until then I will just be doing the best I can to write as much as I can.  
> 2) Once again, this is historical fiction and it is my personal imagination as to what Angela's life was like, and this is in no way fact. The Crusades actually happened, Enrico Dandolo did fight in them, and he did have a son named Raniero, but there is very little information about Angela's life.  
> 3) Thank you to all the lovely people who have supported me through this. (Special shout out to my discord fam! You guys are a bright spot in my life and have been my saviors during this past month. I love you!) To everyone else who is still reading this author's note- you guys are amazing too!  
> As always, I love hearing from you guys, so feel free to talk to me whenever.  
> <3 <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> As always, if you spot any grammatical mistakes, please tell me.  
> Title taken from _Hamlet_ by Shakespeare.  
>  _“Doubt thou the stars are fire,  
>  Doubt that the sun doth move,  
> Doubt truth to be a liar,  
> But never doubt I love."_


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